


Oh the things that you do (in the name of what you love)

by IcyStarlight



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hoshi Meguri (IDOLiSH7), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Assassination Plot(s), Character Study, M/M, The Original Characters only play a minor role, Violence, War, Why yes I sure did write over 10k of soulmate introspective back and forth, no beta we die like me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22386331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyStarlight/pseuds/IcyStarlight
Summary: Orion's spent a majority of his life being dismissed as just another pawn, second to the old men who sit on old accomplishments while his people suffer and die in the streets. Sure he has a soulmate out there somewhere but once the revolution picks up he doesn't think he'll live long enough to meet them. His first priority has always been his people regardless, and if dying helps them that's just what he'll have to do. Erin's spent his whole life alone fighting for his own survival. When he gets the chance to actually fight for something he wants beyond his own survival, a Lama where someone else won't ever have to grow up how he did, he takes the chance. He just doesn't ever actually expect to meet his soulmate in the process. But the bonds of fate work in mysterious ways and though neither of them ever expected it, maybe they'll find something else to stand by,
Relationships: Erin/Orion (IDOLiSH7)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 46





	Oh the things that you do (in the name of what you love)

**Author's Note:**

> AN: me, cramming 8 troupes into one au - I see no God in this Google doc OTHER THAN ME. Also yes ik there's a canon meeting for erin and orion but i am the god here on this google doc and i make the canon, tho plz mind might be a little ooc

He's ten years old when he get his words. Quick and curvy, crimson colored script that sits at the top of his right shoulder, _'Get on your knees.’_

The words irk his dad to no end. How dare his soulmates first words to him be them demanding he kneel? He was the prince of Lama and yet he would be told to kneel before someone else? He doesn't really think much about the words. He doesn't expect to live that long anymore. The revolutionaries are angry with his family, with the way Lama is. He doesn't blame them either. Lama is not a nice place to be and he grows up with the nicest life he could have.

That being said, if they want the throne they're going to have to come take it from him. He's spent too long suffering through lessons and fancy parties where the air is so stuffy someone might choke. He plays nice and learns to speak nice even when his words are laced with poison. He hates it. He hates the dinner parties. Hates balls where these old nobles flex their wealth and accomplishments from when they were young. No one cares about the people. His people who are starving, suffering, and dying. All these nobles care about is themselves.

When they catch a revolutionary in the castle he's thankful the knights get him first. These are younger knights, they're scared of the king. And based on how they fidget as the approach the cell of the prisoner he has no doubt the revolution has already bled its way into the castle. He asks the prison guard who knows they had this prisoner. It's too perfect when the answer is only the four of them in the room. The two knights, the guard, and him. Things just didn't work out this nicely on purpose did they? Would his naivety get him killed here? Probably, but if he didn't try then he'd have regrets and he already had enough of those.

So when they bring him to see the prisoner he tells them they can make a deal. The prisoner gets to go. His father doesn't learn the revolution just came knocking in the castle. In return they start with the other noble houses first. The dukes who have sat pretty on their old war accomplishments, annoyed him at every chance, and treat their people like dirt. The prisoner laughs at him. Tells him there's no use in delaying the inevitable. The royal family will fall. He rolls his eyes. Like he doesn't know that day will come, but it doesn't matter if they kill him and his father if the other nobles remain as well. They do this now, they change their targets just for the time being, and when the day comes where they return to the castle he will not put up a fight.

Why? Why would he do this? That is the question he's asked. It makes him want to laugh. Why would he tell them to kill the other nobles? Why would he make this deal? Why would he delay his death? Was it not enough to want the revolution to succeed? To give his people a better chance at life? To try and do something so he doesn't regret not trying harder when the time comes for his death? If he's going to die anyways he'd rather they have an actual chance to change things. He can't do a lot on his own. He's too young and the rest of the nobles don't like him. Even his father would rather he not have more power. This is the best chance he has to try and make a difference. Why wouldn't he take it?

The revolutionary laughs, but they have a deal. He doesn't ask why none of the knights they pass on the way out don't stop them when there's clearly a traitor to the crown with him. He doesn't ask when they let the revolutionary walk out like a visitor with no hassle or issue. The servants whisper around him. Had the prince joined them? Would the revolution fail? Had they gained a powerful ally on the inside? He walks the halls of the only home he's known and listens. Clearly, things are moving faster than any of them knew. He can't help but feel excited that things are going to change. He wonders if that's strange. Because the only way that's happening, is after he's dead.

* * *

He gets his soulmate marker when he's eight. It's the night after he's completed his first mission and two years since he was picked off the streets by his master. The elegant and silver colored cursive that wraps around his left wrist reads, _'What I know? Are we talking general knowledge or something in particular?'_

He wonders what his soulmate would think if they knew he was an orphan street rat who was now a trained killer. He wondered if he would ever get to meet his soulmate. War was coming. He could feel it in the wind. The revolutionaries had amassed an army and the king had gathered his fleet. A clash of people versus power was coming. Rumors ran wild no matter where you went. Everyone was talking about what soon to come.

His master said they weren't to pick a side. They would be working for whichever side paid them the most. He wondered if it would be rude to kill his master because he knew what side he wanted to fight for. When they get a hit on one of the revolutionary leaders he decides he should make his move. What's the point in fighting if you're not fighting for what you believe in? So when they go to make their kill, he stabs his master in the back. His master tries some weird but I raised you speech and he just rolls his eyes. Raised him? Please he raised himself on the street, the bastard only picked him up because he had won all his ring matches that one weekend. He turns around and pledges allegiance to the rebellion.

He's ten when he joins the revolution. The revolutionaries treat him like a child, which is understandable considering his age, but they should know that there is no childhood on Lama now. That's something he fights to change. They really only have him running courier missions and delivering messages. Granted more often than those missions often went bad and he would end up having to fight his way out of a mess anyways.

When he’s sixteen the revolutionary leader he had once been hired to kill asks him to send a message to the Duke of the West. He asks what kind of message should he be sending and when the leader says the same one you once almost gave me he smiles. Finally, he can actually put his skills to use.

* * *

He knows his time is drawing closer to an end with every year that passes. He especially knows it when the Duke of the West dies. There is no information about how he died other than it was an assassination. There was supposedly a kunai left in his throat. Regardless of who the killer was, the message is clear. His time is coming to an end soon. He wouldn’t say he’s ready for it but he knows better than to fight the inevitable. He’s only just recently turned 18 but he’s the crowned prince of Lama and he’s been fighting his whole life to make a better life for his people.

Then the other dukes start to fall one by one as well. His father yells nonstop but no one is able to do anything to stop this killer who has marked each kill with a kunai in the victim's throat. The revolution crushes his father’s forces. Every day the revolution gets closer and closer to the castle. He says like it hasn’t been in the castle for years now. Servants have been executed at least one a month since he first let that revolutionary go. Sometimes he gets lucky and gets to warn them ahead of time to run. Some stay anyways to spite the King - which he can’t say he blames them for - but his father doesn’t care who or how many he kills, so what is even the point?

He deals with more meetings and responsibilities as the remaining nobles and his father try and figure out what to do. They bar servants from entering these meetings eventually when there’s only four dukes, his father, and him left out of all of Lama’s previous 16 nobles. He tries to reason with his father, that the fighting is pointless now. That they’ve lost no matter how you look at it. That continuing to fight will only lead to pointless deaths but his father doesn’t want to hear any of it.

He storms out of the castle and into the night. It's a foolish choice on his part considering the castle is currently the only place he knows he won’t be assassinated at any given moment. At least in the castle it will probably only be in his sleep. Which is why he can only mentally berate himself when he senses someone following him. He’s gone too far away from the castle paths and he’s in the opposite direction of where the rest of the capital is. Technically he’s still on castle grounds but the area is dark and slightly hidden away by the shadows of the city lights behind the castle. He takes too long trying to decide what he should do because there’s a sharp edge at his throat.

“Get on your knees.” a voice hisses in his ear. He slowly sinks to his knees as to not get a blade in his throat. Any sudden movement would probably get his neck slit so he takes it slow. He could try and fight but he’d be dead before he could do anything. Once he’s down the voice hisses again,“Tell me what you know.”

“What I know? Are we talking general knowledge or something in particular?” he snaps back. In hindsight it was a stupid decision but he’s still pissed from having to deal with his dad so he’s not in the mood for games.

The assassin doesn’t respond for what feels like an eternity but is about twenty seconds before he hears yelling from nearby. It’s the castle guards looking for an intruder. The assassin clicks their tongue and presses the blade into his throat just enough for him to feel the pressure of the edge starting to bite into his skin, “Don’t die before I find you again.”

Then like they were never even there, the assassin is gone. Don’t die before I find you again? What kind of weird - oh, that was his soulmate. He can feel the words on his shoulder throb from where the assassin grabbed him and they exchanged the lines that linked them together. He can only shake his head though, those last words, that’s a promise he can’t keep.

* * *

He doesn’t know a lot about soulmates. He knows the words on his wrist link him to someone else. That they’re soulmates, fated partners, lovers guided together by the stars, which is fine and all but he still doesn’t understand it. Why? How? When? Where? Who? He has questions, so many questions but no one to answer them. All he knows is the gossip he’s overheard and the exaggerated stories people love to share. None of that really tells him anything useful though.

He doesn’t expect to find his soulmate. He’s never expected to find his soulmate. Not when he first heard of the idea as a kid starving on the streets, not when he started out fighting in the underground ring matches for money, not when his master nearly trained him to death, not when he took his freedom, and certainly not when interrogating a noble for information.

And yet the words on his wrist are burning as the person in front of him speaks, “What I know? Are we talking general knowledge or something in particular?”

His brain stops working.

The gossip and stories swirl around in his head like a storm. _When you meet your soulmate your words will grow hot. Its searing pain that will distract you from whatever you are doing so you do not miss them or fail to realize it's them. When I met my husband my words burned so bad I thought I was on fire. When I met my partner my words made me physically keel over in pain. Oh when my friend met her soulmate, she said that her soulmate fainted from the pain. It wasn’t that extreme for me, when I met my soulmate it was like I accidentally touched a hot pan, just enough pain to register something had happened. My mom told me that when she met my dad it was like something had knocked the wind out of her._ There's an overwhelming dread in his stomach as the realization hits him and everything seems to stop at once.

This person is his soulmate.

He hears yelling closer than it should be before he notices the noise. Shit, he has to go _now_. He pushes with just enough force to ensure the person, _his soulmate_ , is paying attention before he says one final thing, “Don’t die before I find you again.”

With that he’s out of there. Kunai away, dashing over the hedges, and off into the darkness of the night. That was too close. That was way too close. He should’ve heard the guards from a mile away. What kind of assassin was he if he hadn’t managed to hear the guards until they were about to be on top of him? Was he really so distracted by finding his soulmate? He didn’t even know who they were or what they looked like!

Groaning in frustration he fights the urge to bang his head against a tree. Why, why, why, why, why!? Its all so stupid! His soulmate is on the opposing side! Not only that but important on the enemy side! He shouldn’t care this much! He’s never cared before how does one meeting for all of a minute suddenly change things?! So the words on his wrist burned as someone else spoke the words on them. So he could feel the same searing heat under his hand as he grabbed the person’s shoulder and spoke to them. What did it matter?

But no matter how long he spent trying to convince himself that it didn’t matter if he just couldn’t seem to do it. Some part of him always resisted. It was annoying, frustrating, irritating, and stupid!

He vowed, when he killed his old master though, that he would fight for the revolution.That he would fight to change Lama so no one else would have to grow up how he did. He buries his conflict deep down and throws himself back into what he’s always done best. After every hit, after ever body falls lifeless though, he always checks his words at the end of the day. The revolutionaries talk about how your words fade away into colorless scars when your soulmate died. Yet, silver always shines against his pale skin. He finds it more comforting than he should allow himself to.

* * *

He knows the war will end any day now. The only nobles left are him and his father. The castle is their last hold. The capital city should technically be theirs to but their men never return back if sent out. Defectors or killed, his father says either way they’re dead to him. He tells his own personal force to choose. Either leave now or be slaughtered when the revolution comes knocking, they lost no matter what his father says and he knows it. He really isn’t all that surprised to find most of his own force are already with the revolution. It does make him question how lost he’s been in his own head recently but it's not terribly shocking other than the amount of his force which have already switched sides or were never on his side to begin with.

One of the knights on his force, one of the same ones who remained from when he was a boy who made a deal with the enemy finds him after the matter. The knight asks if he remembers the deal and he rolls his eyes, of course he remembered why do you think he made that offer? The knight wonders why he hasn’t surrendered yet. He’s thought about it. He’s been thinking about for years now. But he thinks there will be no greater blow to his father than when they make their last stand and he surrenders his life without fighting. For all the grief in his life his father gave him, this will be his final blow back.

The knight laughs and laughs but he just walks away. He doesn't care enough to keep up this conversation. He has things to do before he dies anytime within the next couple of days now. Things to ensure that history won't be destroyed. Also to visit his mother's grave one final time. He doubts the revolution will be kind enough to bury him and his father near her.

The castle is ghostly silent. Aside from the few servants who haven’t run or been killed, his father, and himself the place is deserted. Surprisingly the castle actually feels more comforting and warm than it did when he was a child. He supposes that just telling of the kind of place Lama has become. All the more reason for him to do what has to be done.

The garden is overgrown at this point but it is all the better for his purpose. He carefully cuts a few of his mother’s favorite flowers off the trellises and takes them with him as he walks. He’s secured the library so it won’t burn should any of the rest of the castle burn and he’s moved important artifacts in a vault below ground so if someone comes breaking things history will be preserved. He has done all he can to help his people and now all that’s left for him to do is die. In a way it seems fitting. Not to die for his people to protect their lives, but to die so they can truly live.

He only wishes he could see what Lama will become once his father and the nobles are gone. He hopes it is a brighter and warmer future. As night falls, he leaves the flowers on his mother’s grave. Her favorite flower, morning glories, bloom and die within a day. It's only a short matter of time at this point, before he dies too.

* * *

The civil war will be over before dawn. Only the king and the prince remain with a small force. His mission is an easy one. Get in the castle, kill the king and prince, and when he reports back the revolution is won. It's simple honestly considering how empty the castle is. Easy to kill the king, who doesn’t even wake up until it is too late. He makes his way to the prince’s room and then he realizes his mistake of using his other kunai to pin down the king as he died. Thankfully the prince has a knife on his bed stand and he isn’t about to question opportunity.

He looks at the prince and his heart pounds like he’s on his first kill. The war’s been long or maybe it's the anticipation of finally being over with this war. He goes to make the kill and suddenly there’s a hand at his wrist. The prince drags him up and throws him to the floor like he’s merely a child. Well he hadn’t expected the prince to be _that_ strong but no matter he’ll simply have to be faster.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” the prince barks at him, shooting up from his bed and standing up. He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t need to answer someone who’s about to be dead. But the prince keeps questioning him anyways, “Who sent you?”

“You know who sent me. It's time. The war is over, your father is already dead.” he snaps back suddenly. He doesn’t understand why his emotions feel all over the place. He pushes down his emotions and fights the sudden wave of wrongness he feels, “Don’t you see it? Don’t you hear their cries? Don’t you know your people are suffering? This pointless war you’ve been leading against those who only want to live?”

The prince stares at him. In the silence he becomes all too aware that _something_ is wrong about this. Something is wrong right now, but he doesn’t know _what_. He’s too caught up in trying to figure out the sinking feeling in his gut that he doesn’t even realize the prince is in front of him until the prince is literally right in front of him. He goes to move, to jump away, to swing the blade, to do anything but the prince grabs his shoulders and he can only freeze in place.

“It’s you,” the prince says quietly, looking directly at him. He’s never felt this cornered since he was young. Fear should be crushing him right now, he knows all too well what he feels like when he’s trapped and cornered but it doesn’t come. Yet he knows there’s no escape here. The only exit is through killing the prince and despite that he knows what his mission is, what he knows would silence the overwhelming fear he is _supposed_ to be feeling from being trapped like this, his entire body is _screaming at him_ not to kill the prince. His entire being is physically recoiling at the idea of having to kill the prince. He’s so unfocused by the scenario of what should be happening versus what’s actually happening that he can’t help but jump when the prince tilts his head up with one hand. He stares up at the prince and freezes, barely moving enough to breathe. The prince watches him in silence with silver eyes for what feels like an eternity before he whispers, “you’re my soulmate.”

* * *

It's the middle of the night when he wakes up from his instincts screaming at him. He reaches out and snags the wrist around a knife hanging over his throat. An assassin with crimson red hair that seems to shine in the moonlight looms over him. He throws them aside and before he can even form questions for them, underneath his heart pounding from the fear of waking up to a knife over him, something in his body is screaming at him about something but for the life of him he doesn’t know what.

He shoots up out of bed so he can face them on his feet. Ruby eyes stare back at him and he knows he should feel angry because this person just tried to kill him but he can’t. He can’t and he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t have time to figure out why right now though, this person just tried to kill him. So instead he takes the anger he knows he should feel and pours it into his words as he interrogates them, “Who are you? What are you doing here? Who sent you?”

The assassin growls at him before snapping back at him almost immediately, “You know who sent me. It's time. The war is over, your father is already dead. Don’t you see it? Don’t you hear their cries? Don’t you know your people are suffering? This pointless war you’ve been leading against those who only want to live?”

He stops at that. Of course that's what it is. He processes their words again. Oh, his father is dead. He can’t really bring himself to care. The assassin’s words dig into him like knives and he knows its true. He knows everything the assassin said is true but that's not what he’s focused on right now. He knows deep down the horrors his people have had to face. How hard they’ve fought to earn the lives they deserved to have in the first place. He knows all this and it pains him to no end but right now he can’t think about that. All he can think about is the person in front of him and - their voice, that, its them. He walks over to them. He grabs their shoulders to turn them to face him, noting the way they jump as he does so. He also notes that for an assassin they sure don’t act like it, though granted he’d be pretty thrown off if his target turned out to be his soulmate too.

“It’s you,” he says quietly so he hopefully won’t startle them anymore than he already has. They refuse to look at him and he gently lifts their chin up with one hand so he can look into those ruby eyes once more. They stare back at him startled and afraid. He decides that he hates that look on them. They shouldn’t be afraid, they shouldn’t ever look like this. He brushes a thumb across their cheek as he speaks softly again, “you’re my soulmate.”

They stare at him in shock. Eyes squinting slightly at him before they whisper back even softer, “....Your soulmate?”

He nods. Slowly he reaches down and grabs their left hand before slowly pulling it back up to the top of his shoulder where he knows his words, their first words to him sit underneath his shirt. Even though there’s a layer of cloth between the words and their hands he can feel the words heat up as they’re touched by the person that’s tied to him by fate. Underneath his palm he can feel the same heat from where he hold the person’s wrist now.

The person recoils, retching their hand away from his shoulder and out of his grasp like he’s just burned them. The touch did make the words heat up but it wasn’t that painful was it? Sure he has a high pain tolerance from years of training but he never had to gain tolerance to burns so it couldn’t hurt that badly, why did they - a hard shove at his chest and something at the back of his legs sends him toppling backwards onto the ground. He’s too caught up between finding his soulmate again and then the surprise of falling that there is nothing he can do before his soulmate is straddled top of him with a knife pointed at his throat.

His breath catches in his throat because he doesn’t understand, they were soulmates why is this - but then he sees it. An assassin would have a familiarity with blades, yet they have the knife gripped above their head in two hands like they don’t know how to use it. Their entire body seems to quiver slightly, the knife twitching in their grasp as their arms shake. _They’re afraid_. He doesn’t know why, he doesn’t understand. He wants to help, to comfort them but he doesn’t know how. If he moves he has no doubt that knife is going through him and he’s known over half his life he would one day be killed but he never imagined it would be his soulmate doing the deed. He’s come to terms with his death, but nothing makes his heart hurt more than the thought of _his soulmate being the one to kill him_.

The room is dead silent aside from the pounding of his heart in his ears. There is nothing he can do as he stares death in the face. What should he say? He doesn’t know. He doesn't understand. Why? Why?

“....Why?” it takes a second for him to process that voice so quiet he merely thought it was in his own head. He looks more closely at the assassin on top of him, pinning him to the floor not by strength but by threat and surprise. Had he not been so caught up in the rapid shift of the situation he would’ve realized with how much lighter this person is. He could merely shove them off with just a flesh wound as a result.

Does he speak? Should he speak? He’s trained and learned his whole life how to lead others. How to one day become someone who everyone can look to. Yet right now he doesn’t know how to help the one person in front of him. He also doesn’t understand why. Why, why, he hesitates but he’s spent his whole life never speaking what he truly wanted to say and if this the end of it then why bother keeping the trend, “Why?”

They jump when he speaks. Its over and he knows it. In hindsight he should’ve kept quiet. That is his last thought as ruby eyes focus on his throat and the knife comes down. He closes his eyes but the blow never comes.

The knife shakes violently above his throat in the person’s hands. Their eyes seem to come in and out of focus but the knife doesn’t move those few final inches to even touch him much less kill him. Instead of a final feeling of wetness on his throat, his own blood spilling over, he finds a feeling of wetness on his cheek. Eyes darting up at the assassin who doesn’t even seem to be aware of the tears dripping down their face and onto his own. Their eyes twitch as they fight an unseen force that keeps the knife above him. He can only watch as their eyes screw shut and a rush of words seem to pour out of their mouth like the tears from their eyes, “Why, why, why won’t you die? Why can’t I kill you? Why can’t I do it? This is all I know how to do, this is what I was trained to do, what I’ve spent my whole life doing. Why are you here? Why is it you? How did this happen? What does this even mean? Why? Why is there suddenly someone else? When has there ever been anyone else? _How am I supposed to kill you when it's always just been me and now there’s suddenly you?_ ”

* * *

“You’re my soulmate.”

These three words render him completely useless. He can only stand there blankly as he tries to wrap his brain around what is even happening. His soulmate? He looks up ever so slightly at the prince trying to find his answers. He knows he’s barely speaking but it sounds like the loudest thing he’s ever heard as he repeats the words back to the prince, “....Your soulmate?”

The prince nods mutely. Slowly reaching and then grabbing his left wrist where the words flare to life under the prince’s touch. The same steady burn he feels again as the prince places his hand on the top of his shoulder where he can feel the prince’s words flare to life under his hand now.

No. No, no, no, no, no. He jerks his hand from the prince’s grasp, snakes a leg around behind the prince, and shoves hard. The prince topples over like a bag of brick, completely startled by his actions. With practiced movement he drops down into a straddle on top of the prince with the knife up and ready for one final dramatic blow.

He can feel the prince’s breath catch underneath him. It's so easy. He’s done this so many times. All he has to do is let gravity pull his hands and the knife down. That’s all it is. He has the element of surprise, he has every advantage right now, but the knife does not move. He doesn’t know why, he doesn’t understand. He’s spent his entire life fighting and killing. Now just one person, a person who is supposed to be special somehow, and it's like his entire life doesn’t matter. His entire body seems to shake as it fights him. His brain, the logic that is his mission, his heart, his whole being is fighting him.

The room is dead silent aside from the pounding of his heart in his ears. He doesn’t understand it. He doesn’t understand it at all, “Why?”

He doesn’t even realize he’s spoken until the prince echoes his own words back to him quietly, “...Why?”

At the sound he stops thinking, gives into instinct as he brings the knife down. It's so simple, it's just that simple, but then its not. The knife shakes violently in his hands as it sits above the person like he’s hit some sort of barrier. _Why, why, why, why, why, why?_ Why is it suddenly so hard? Why can’t he do it? Why can’t he bring himself to do it? He’s spent almost his entire life killing people. He’s spent his entire life knowing he could only trust the blade in his hands, so why now is it betraying him? He screws his eyes shut and tries with all his might to fight against himself but he can’t. He can’t and he doesn’t understand _why._ It hurts, it hurts so bad. Why does it hurt?

He faintly registers the wetness on his cheeks as tears when the dam breaks and he can’t stop the rush of words, all the thoughts he doesn’t understand as the flood out of him and fill the silence, “Why, why, why won’t you die? Why can’t I kill you? Why can’t I do it? This is all I know how to do, this is what I was trained to do, what I’ve spent my whole life doing. Why are you here? Why is it you? How did this happen? What does this even mean? Why? Why is there suddenly someone else? When has there ever been anyone else? _How am I supposed to kill you when it's always just been me and now there’s suddenly you?_ ”

He can’t stop the silent sob that suddenly runs through him as his voice cracks and cuts off. The physical recoil from the idea that he has to kill this person. The sheer amount of _horrible wrong_ he feels from even trying to fight to kill the prince. He doesn’t understand at all.

Something grabs his wrist.

Eyes snapping open he stares down the prince who holds his right wrist loosely. The prince’s face is unreadable as he steadies the blade and pulls it down towards his own throat. He thinks he is going to throw up. It feels like an eternity in which the prince slowly pulls the knife down. The entire time his mind, his body, everything in the universe seems to _scream_ at him to stop but all he can do is sit there frozen as he watches the blade sink closer and closer to the spot he should’ve driven it into already. When the tip of the knife finally, _finally_ , touches the skin on the prince’s throat he acts.

With a noise he doesn’t understand, he forces the prince’s hand off his wrist and throws the knife across the room. He doesn’t know where it is but its not here and the prince is still alive and he’s failed his mission because he can’t kill the prince and he doesn’t understand what he’s feeling at all but now that the knife is gone he no longer feels like he’s the one who just took a blade to the throat. The weight that was crushing him before has vanished and with it all his force in fighting to keep trying to kill the prince has been sapped from him.

With a level of exhaustion he hasn’t felt in years he can’t even fight anymore as gravity claims him and he slumps over on top of the prince, banging his head on the bottom of the prince’s chin. He just doesn’t understand it, “Why….”

* * *

“ _How am I supposed to kill you when it's always just been me and now there’s suddenly you?_ ” their voice cracks. It's clear as day now that their conviction is wavering more so than the knife in their hands.

He, he hates this. There’s two options here, either he helps, he helps his soulmate kill him or they find another way together. He watches their body shake with silent sobs and even if the very thought of helping them fight the very tie that binds them together makes him feel violently ill, it's the fact that they’re trying so hard to fight it. They’re trying so hard to change the fate that has been laid out in front of them and _he gets that_.

So he swallows the bile in his throat and slowly grabs the person’s right hand. Ruby eyes pierce straight through him into his soul, but he gives nothing away as he steadies the knife and starts to move downwards. If this is what his soulmate wants to fight for then he’ll accept that. He accepted death a long time ago. At least in his final moments he can be useful to someone.

He thinks he is going to throw up as slowly but surely the very tip of the knife comes to ever so slightly touch his throat.

He’s so focused on watching the knife he misses the other’s face shift but he definitely does not miss the whine of desperation that comes from his soulmate as they rip the knife back away from his hands and chuck it hard somewhere across the room. He looks at them in shock but they don’t look back instead he sees their eyes lose focus once more as they slump over on top of him. Just a little shorter than him, his soulmate bangs the top of their head on the bottom of his chin and though he winces they don’t even react. Then like they hadn’t just spent what felt like an eternity with a knife between them, his soulmate is pressed lightly against him from where they lay still slightly shaking with heavy breaths he can feel against his own short and shallow ones.

Their hearts seem to beat in tandem at a rapid pace as the adrenaline wears off and the sheer emotional exhaustion of what just transpired crashes over them. He’s barely aware of anything except the weight against him as a quiet voice whispers, “Why….”

His mind races to try and form an answer but he really can’t seem to think of one. So for once in his life he lets his heart make the decision for him. Gently wrapping his arms around his soulmate loosely as he rests his hand on the back of their head lightly, trying to comfort them but still giving them a way out he lets his heart choose what to say, “You’ve fought all by yourself for so long, just this once, let someone else do the fighting for you.”

He thinks he’s fucked it up when he hears a small series of giggles, “Wow who knew the prince was such a romantic sap?”

He rolls his eyes and hopes the relief he feels isn’t noticeable when he complains, “And here I thought I was being nice.”

They lapse into silence for a moment after that. It's nice actually, to hold someone close like this without any doubts or concerns for the moment. It feels safe in a way he hasn’t since he was a young boy whom his mother would carry around on her hip.

“You know they’ll come when they realize I’m not coming back.” his soulmate says flatly, unmoving in his arms aside from their steady breathing he can feel in time with his own.

For a moment he had forgotten about everything else in the world. Well that wasn’t true, but for a moment he had pushed it away. He groans and fights the urge to throw his whole life away and just run away with his soulmate. But that’s not who he is. So instead he starts thinking, “Think the revolution would want a trial run with someone who actually understands how to run this star if they got to have more input?”

“Well how convincing can you be?” his soulmate asks curiously as the slowly peel themselves from his hold and stand upright. He takes their offered hand and pulls himself off the ground, but doesn’t let go. Instead he pulls them close and tilts their chin up so they can only look him in the eyes.

“Well with you by my side I think they’ll find that even if I’m not convincing I can be quite a force to be reckoned with.” they smirk at him and with fluidity he’s only seen on other stars they break from his hold. If they had the knife he has no doubts it would about to be pulled on him.

They only move back though. They seem lost in thought before they turn back and face him on their own. There’s that conviction that almost got him killed earlier. The same conviction he can hear as they address him, “Well your highness I may not be able to kill you but if you think I’m about to let this star continue how it has been, I think you’ll find yourself in quite the predicament. And I highly doubt the people are about to let an assassin be crowned queen.”

He can’t help it, he definitely snorts at the thought of the person in front of him sitting upon the dusty throne that was taken out of the main hall years ago now. “If I crowned you as queen I think I’d have to start the next revolution myself. I meant with you as by side, my right hand man, my blade.”

“Oh so I’m going to be doing your dirty work?” they smirk at him, tiptoeing closer in a way that looks like how someone poking you in the side repeatedly would feel, smugly and slightly annoying.

“If I don’t want to do my paperwork why would you think that I would make you do it?” he rolls eyes, “No, I was thinking more along the lines of I’d have the people trust if I had one of their best fighters at my side supporting me.”

“What makes you think I’m one of the revolution’s best?” they ask genuinely.

“You only send the best to finish the most important part of the job. That and people do talk you know, I highly doubt there’s another crimson assassin on this star.” he explains gesturing to their hair.

They seem to take his words into consideration as they reach back and run a hand along the ponytail their hair is pulled into before addressing him again,“So King prince, what’s your first decree?”

He shakes his head, “No, I’m not king until the people crown me as such, right now, I’m just Orion.”

“Well just Orion, my name is Erin.” His soulmate, Erin, seems taken aback with his introduction but it's quickly covered up with another prod in his side. Just Orion, he’s going to wind up wishing Erin killed him one day huh?

“Erin…” Its not a name he expected but then again he never expected to even meet Erin. But this, Erin, this feels right so who is he to question such a strong feeling?

“Hm?” Erin hums confused when he hears his name, tilting his head slightly to the side. Its slightly endearing but he pushes that aside for the moment.

He shakes his head, “Nothing, it's just nice to finally know my soulmate’s name.”

Erin hums softly and the lapse into silence for a moment. He starts to think about what is going to happen next when Erin starts to speak and draws his attention, “So is this it? The whole soulmate thing people never shut up about? Its just meeting someone? What does soulmate even entail?”

“Don’t worry too much about it for now Erin. We’ll just figure it out as we go, together.” Erin rolls his eyes at his answer but lets him leave it for now. He’d love nothing more than to answer all of Erin’s questions but to be honest, he doesn’t really understand it either. But right now there are more important things than figuring out what all the soulmate stuff means. Erin is here and that's really all that matters to him.

* * *

The leaders of the revolution arrive just as he asked them to right after the sun has started to rise. They’ve been sitting in the throne room for about an hour now. It, its weird, but it's nice - Orion that is. With only one throne in the room he ended up spending the better part of said hour on Orion’s lap just trying to adjust to having someone else so close and in his personal space. Usually he hates it, but for some reason Orion is just different. He supposes that’s true for a lot of things though.

He gets up when he hears the revolution and its leaders coming. Orion standing up just after he does, but standing further back as he moves forward. They’re loud and he can hear their not so hushed whispers of the war finally being over. They open the door to the throne room and all immediately start to cheer only to abort mid movement when they notice Orion is standing behind him.

“You failed-” One of them starts.

“You were supposed to kill them both! Why-” Someone else interrupts.

“Did you forget what we’re fighting for?” Someone yells out.

The crowd seems to descend into yells and chaos at that point. He thought about doing this differently but would he really be an assassin if he didn’t make a scene that people would spend the next week talking about? Would it really be him if he didn’t make it dramatic?

He doesn’t say anything as he turns his back towards the revolution and steps over so he stands directly in front of Orion, who for not knowing what he’s about to do, is completely stone faced. Its then he’s grateful for the name people have built for him. The deadliest assassin on all of Lama, the Crimson Killer, the Bloody Kunai, and whatever other name people have used. They know who he is and they know he’s killed the previous king. So when he kneels down directly in front of Orion and bows his head it is a move that has the rebellion silenced immediately. He lets the silence fall over everyone until he can hear his own breathing quietly before he addresses Orion, “I, Erin of Lama, swear my loyalty, to you Orion, until my life ceases to be.”

Had it not been so deadly silent he would’ve missed how Orion’s breath hitched. He wishes he could’ve seen Orion’s face at that moment. Orion who was too uptight and didn’t let himself feel emotions. He wanted to fight for Orion’s smile now that the people of Lama would be getting theirs back.

There’s a hand on his shoulder and he looks up as Orion regards him with a warm fondness in his eyes, “Rise Erin, your loyalty is worth more than your life.”

It’s a power move when Orion helps him stand up. One he’s sure has thrown the entire revolution gathered here for a loop even more so than his sudden change in loyalty. He stands between Orion and the rest of Lama. He stares them down and dares them to even make a move against Orion less they no longer value their lives.

For a moment, no one moves. Then the same revolutionary he once pledged his loyalty to takes a step forward before speaking with a steady voice, “Is this the path you deem right to take? Will the Prince be different than his father? Are you truly standing by this as one versus an entire star?”

He doesn’t even get a chance to speak before Orion does as the prince, his soulmate steps up besides him, “I’d rather not have anymore pointless bloodshed over matters that can be discussed but it would be two against an entire star, my life is not worth anymore than Erin’s nor is his life not worth anymore than mine.”

He wants to make a comment about that considering Orion is about to become king but he holds it for now. The revolution leader looks between the two of them and then addresses Orion, “So this is the end? What is it you are proposing exactly then if not your death?”

“The war is over, it ended when my father’s life ended. This fighting, this war was always pointless and all those who supported it are gone. I merely wish to help Lama become the star it always should’ve been. I’ve spent my whole life learning how to rule this star but I know that it is not just a King Lama needs. I know that a single ruler unadvised or unaided by his people is pointless. You need someone who knows how this star works inside and out despite that the system made need changing and I need people with different perspectives and voices to help me ensure that the people of Lama can live their best lives without fear, without war, and without suffering.” Orion explains, never once faltering. So this was the conviction of a true ruler?

The revolution leader watches them both silently before raising his sword above his head and shouting, “For King Orion!”

Orion draws his own sword and mimics the action but with his own shout, “For the people of Lama!”

Together both leaders cheer, “For a better tomorrow!”

Applause, cheers, and shouts echo all across Lama as the war truly comes to an end. It’s beautiful, the amount of smiles and the joy on the people’s faces is unlike any he’s ever seen. Something in his mind screams at him though and he barely manages to react in time to shove Orion out of the way of an oncoming crossbow bolt.

Orion’s face is shocked as he nearly falls over, but he supposes it only grows more shocked when Orion seems to open his mouth in a yell. He can’t hear it though. All he knows is the crossbow bolt piercing his side and the pounding of his heart in his ears. He doesn’t hit the ground surprisingly enough but as he looks up and sees silver he distantly realizes, right Orion would’ve caught him. A part of him, somewhere deep down that he’s long since tucked away and hidden is overjoyed by the fact that when he fell someone was there to catch him finally.

For once, for once he didn’t have to be alone. The world seems quiet now. Orion is talking but he can’t even make out the words that are being formed. Orion looks sad, he doesn’t like that. Everyone should be happy. He fought for the people of Lama’s smiles. He wanted Orion to smile too. The last thing he knows before the darkness takes him is the searing burn on his wrist and the realization that was discovered last night. That’s right, his soulmate was here with him. He was never going to have to be alone ever again.

* * *

He doesn't even know what's happening until it's already happened. Erin is dying in his arms and he doesn’t care that he’s survived the revolution if Erin isn’t going to be there with him afterwards. The thought of Erin dying is something he can’t accept, was this how Erin felt trying to kill him last night?

He only remembers there's other people there with him when two people kneel in front of him. Right the person who shot Erin, well tried to shoot him where -

“Relax your highness, the offender has been contained. We need to do something about this wound he’s losing too much blood.” a gentle voice speaks and he registers the brown haired person in front of him is the one speaking. They’re very clearly is some sort of healer based on the items and bandages they’ve pulled out of their satchel. The healer wastes no time gently nudging his hand off of the wound so instead it holds back the ripped cloth of Erin’s shirt and jacket.

There is a blond woman next to the healer that yells something over her shoulder before also kneeling down and helping the healer. She hisses as she looks at the wound and he hasn’t even really looked at it, was it really that bad? She takes the offered items from someone else who approaches but they’re gone almost immediately. She looks up at him at addresses him clearly, “Hold him steady we have to get the bolt out without making it worse before we can start to stitch the wound.”

He steels himself and if he was slightly shaking before he stops immediately. Erin is dying, he can have a breakdown later. The healer whispers something he doesn’t pick up to the woman but he does pick up the second half “-if only we knew his soulmate, he’s not going to survive this otherwise.”

“How could his soulmate help this situation?” he asks suddenly.

The healer doesn’t even bother to look up from the wound, eyes narrowed in concentration as they speak low, “Fatal wounds can be staved off by a soulmate touching a wounded’s words. The tie stabilize the wounded for a few extra hours and in the worst cases even split the severity of the wound between soulmates.”

Erin could be saved, _Erin would be saved_.

“His left wrist.” He gasped out. The woman narrowed her eyes at him but moved around the healer to pull Erin’s wrist off the ground and remove his glove. Upon seeing the silver color of the words, her eyes light up and she bends Erin’s arm across his chest so he can grab it. The second he grasps Erin’s wrist he can feel not only the familiar burn of the words beneath his hand, but also the sudden searing pain in his side. He can’t help the string of curses that spill from his mouth as his side _burns_ way more than the words ever had. Damn, he hadn’t gotten hurt to feel pain like this in a long time.

The woman looks like she wants to say something else but instead she keeps it professional, “If you feel yourself start to bleed tell us this is not a matter of pride, not when someone else’s life is on the line.”

He wants to make a snap back at her like he doesn’t already know that but he knows she is just trying to do her job. The healer pulls at the bolt and it takes all of his effort to not recoil from the pain.

“Curse, yell, shout, if you want something to bite we can get it for you. You cannot move or this will get worse.” the healer informs him calmly and objectively.

“Here bite this,” someone stands next to him, looks at Erin’s wound and curses. He looks up to see the revolution leader who is very clearly upset and angry about this turn of events. He looks back down to the strip of leather in the revolutionary leader’s outstretched hand. He can see a matching strip tied around the man’s wrist. He doesn’t think he needs to but then another wave of pain hits him and he bits down around the strip before he accidentally bites of his own tongue.

“Situation?” the woman asks the man, not at all looking up from where her hands hold the skin around the wound steady as the healer works at the bolt.

The revolution leader sighs, “None as far as I’m currently aware. The chaos made it easy to get everyone unimportant out and focused on the fact someone betrayed a direct order from me and the other leaders. The story is someone tried to assassinate our head figure, soon to be king here, that Erin took the hit, and then the soon to be king was dragged into helping with the medical procedure as an extra pair of hands that was first on the scene.”

The healer hums a bit, “Well it’s not entirely incorrect. Any idea why the offender acted?”

“Not yet though I’m sure Nerio and Nerva those twin terrors they are will surely have something by the end of the day.” the revolutionary answers before walking away and calling back over his shoulder, “We’ll tie up things with the war your highness. You just focus on helping those two save Erin because despite the kid’s best efforts to remain uninvolved with others he’s got a lot of people worried about him.”

It feels like an agonizing eternity before the pain in his side dulls to a throb. He’s long since closed his eyes and focused on his breathing to keep steady and calm that he misses the bolt actually being removed and the wound stitched. He’s pretty sure he might’ve just fallen asleep upright or at least gone into some sort of meditative state when an aggravated shout drags him back to reality, “I told you to tell me if you started bleeding! Look at this, for crying out loud how did you not notice?”

He opens his eyes and glances down at his side where the fabric of his shirt is considerably darker than the surrounding fabric. He can feel the warmth of blood both on his skin and in the heavy weight of the fabric that’s absorbed it. Oh, when had that happened.

“Well at least we know why he stopped responding when we were talking, the soulmate bond must’ve been the only thing that ended up keeping them both afloat.” The healer mutters as they pull out a pair of scissors and start cutting away the bloodied fabric over his wound. Oh well, that was quite the hole in his side.

Something blocks his vision and he vaguely registers it as a hand when the woman speaks behind him, “Sorry about this your highness, but you’re both stable enough for me to finally administer some sort of medicine to help with the pain.”

There’s a sharp sting in his neck for a minute and then it's gone, he’s too out of it from the pain to really process what just happened but its not like he’s in any position to stop her anyways. Not with Erin still in his grasp and his hand still around Erin’s wrist. A pair of hands rest on his shoulders and gently lower him back onto the floor. Oh that’s so much better. He didn’t even realize how bad that position was hurting. Someone helps adjust Erin so he winds up half sprawled on his upper chest where he can still loosely hold Erin’s wrist and have his soulmate in his grasp without obstructing his wounded side.

“What a pair huh?” someone speaks with a gruff voice. His brain faintly registers it as the revolutionary leader. Everything feels really far away and unimportant now. Maybe he should just sleep? There’s a huff and something touches his forehead that's nice and cool before the same gruff voice speaks again, “Go to sleep already I swear you’re even worse than the kid. You’ll both be fine so just let someone else take care of it for once okay?”

That did sound really nice. And that’s all he knows before he lets the nothingness take him.

* * *

He drifts in and out of consciousness a few times before he really wakes up. He’s managed to gather a few things from these experiences. First is the constant throbbing pain in his side like he’s been stabbed which probably means he was stabbed somehow even if he currently can’t remember it. Second is the warm weight of an arm half slung around his upper right side and the steady movement of someone’s chest rising and falling beneath his head. Third is the calming warmth that’s coming from the loose grip the person below him has around his left wrist. They’re somewhere warm, the surface below him is softer than any he’s ever felt before, and he doesn’t at all seem to be bothered by not only being this close to someone but also being held down even the slightest bit by them. Finally, he did remember hearing both Janus and Iris speaking before as well as Anser talking lowly to him.

The familiar people are enough to convince himself he’s safe beyond just the overwhelming feeling he has; which is something new that he is unsure of how to deal with. When was the last time he had actually felt safe? He didn’t remember a time. He’s afraid that if he opens his eyes and wakes up it will be gone but he refuses to lay in bed forever.

Slowly opening his eyes, he fights the urge to groan when the faint light nearby is unfamiliarly bright. There’s sounds of someone moving around nearby but he doesn’t think he can sit upright quite yet. Thankfully he doesn’t even have to try as whoever is in the room seems to notice him waking up. Anser peers over him from across the other side of the bed and upon seeing him awake rolls his eyes and complains without any actual malice or force behind his words, “Can you not get injured for like one week that is all I ask, every time I let you go you always end up right back with me, and don’t get me wrong Erin I do like you and I enjoy your company as a friend but please stop winding up in my infirmary. You’re going to lead me to an early grave.”

Anser glares at him but he knows that they’re just worried about him. He’s heard this whole spiel at least ten times in the past year alone. His job is dangerous, what can he do about it when its like thirty to one? He’s lucky to still be alive to be honest. Wait, what happened? He looks up at Anser and barely manages to croak out a “....what?”

“You took a crossbow bolt to the side, barely managed to survive almost bleeding out, and have been out for about three days now.”Anser sighs, as they give him a break down of recent events. He turns away and starts picking things up as he continues talking, “I removed your iv earlier because you seemed to be waking up. There’s food and drink for you both on the side table. Take it slow and steady sitting up. Also please for the love of Misterio don’t aggravate your stitches. If you rip or tear them open I am not fixing them, you’re adults you can control yourselves. I have things I need to do elsewhere but I’ll be back with dinner later with Janus to catch you up on things. If either of you get out of bed take it slowly because you’ll be weak. If either of you leave this chamber I will find out and you will regret it!”

He watches Anser move around the room tidying things and putting away things into his satchel. Anser goes to leave and he asks a question that has him freezing in place as his brain catches up to him, “Either…..? Oh…”

Anser sighs yet again before turning and point an accusatory finger at him, “You better be a big boy and use your words or I’ll get Iris to sick Nerva and Nerio on you!”

With that Anser turns and leaves the room. Then it's just him and the person beneath him. His soulmate. It only takes a minute for his brain to catch up and remember the events from before. Right Orion, his soulmate, the war ending, the crossbow.

Its quiet for a minute as he process this information before a voice cuts through his thoughts, “You know when I said we would figure it out together I didn’t mean it like this.”

He looks down at Orion who lays with an arm over his eyes. Erin watches him for a moment before Orion moves his arm just enough to uncover an eye to look up at him. He looks every bit as tired as Erin currently feels. He smiles at Orion and pokes his forehead, “Oh come on it wasn’t that bad.”

Orion moves his arm off his head and gestures to his side. Wait why his side he wasn’t the one that got… oh right… soulmates.

“Oh…” he says eventually. It sounds quiet and far away from him as he can barely hear it over the pounding of his heart. That was right, Anser and Iris had talked about it before. He had seen it in action before too. A fatal injury or sickness that might kill someone could be split between soulmates and in some cases the bond of soulmates could even keep soulmates alive for hours when they would have died otherwise.

“Yeah.” Orion says bluntly.

They sit in silence after that. The weight of the situation finally hitting him truly for what it was. He doesn’t even realize Orion sits up behind him until he feels a pair of arms snake around his upper chest as to not bother the stitches on his side. Part of him wants to bolt. Wants to shove aside this strange and foreign feeling in his chest, wants to throw this calm he’s never felt anything like before away and never ever think about it again. This is all to unfamiliar and he hates it. He hates not understanding things.

“Stop thinking about it so hard, I told you we’d figure it out together right? Would I lie to you?” Orion asks him, words muffled a bit from where his face is buried against Erin’s shoulder. When had he even done that? He didn’t like this. It was like a blind spot. His guard was never this low if he could control it. Why could he suddenly not control it? Anser’s words from earlier echo in his mind. Use his words huh?

“Easy for you to say.” he grumbles.

“Why’s that?”

Part of him wants to snap back some witty response but the rest of him realizes this is Orion giving him a choice. He doesn’t have to explain. He can continue running away from his past if he wants to. And Orion wouldn’t ask again. Or he could explain. And Orion would listen. He isn’t sure which part of that scares him more. But he’s made it this far because even when he was afraid he didn’t back down, so he sure isn’t starting now.

“I’ve always been alone. I grew up alone on the streets. It was just me and only me from the moment I first remember. Only I could keep myself alive. Only I would be the reason I died or got hurt. Everything I did, every choice I made was made solely by me solely for me. Sure eventually I got picked off the streets and taken in, but that was to be trained to be an assassin. Even if my master wasn’t horribly cruel as he could’ve been that doesn’t mean my situation hadn’t changed.” he stops speaking. His chest feels tight and he doesn’t like it. Doesn’t like feeling weak and vulnerable.

“But you were with the revolution, how’d that happen?” Orion prompts.

“My master didn’t want to pick a side, he wanted to work for whomever would pay higher. We got a request for a hit on Janus. But, but I killed my master instead that night. The revolution, I didn’t really know anything about what had been currently happening, but I remembered my life before training and I didn’t want anyone else to have to go through that. I wanted people to smile and be happy. I didn’t want anyone to have to live like I did. Janus liked my willingness to fight for what I believed in and kept me around. Sure, I, I made friends, allies in the revolution but it was always still me. I did my hits alone, I did missions alone, I knew I had a soulmate but I didn’t know what that even meant aside from the gossip people told. Fated bonds? Lovers chosen by the stars? A destined pair? None of that made sense to me.”

“You were like me.” Orion cuts in.

Like Orion? “Huh?”

“You didn’t think you’d live to meet your soulmate. I grew up up and when the revolution started to gain ground I knew, I had known for years now that one day they would come for the throne and I would be dead. I didn’t think I’d ever meet you.” Orion explains somberly.

“Yeah… me either…” he agrees. He swallows the lump in his throat, “But then in the garden I was just looking for intel and I didn’t even get to see who you were but you looked important and I was so blindsided I almost got caught. What kind of assassin gets caught? By the castle guards no less? No offence but they’re horrible at their jobs.”

“Its not offensive when its the truth.” Orion snorts lightly. The sit in silence for a moment before Orion prompts him to continue again, “And that night, after you killed my father?”

“I didn’t know until you said it. It, that, it doesn’t make sense to me. I had a job to do. It was important. The revolution needed to succeed and everything else was secondary, but I… I couldn’t do it.” He admits.

“I noticed.”

He thinks about elbowing Orion but remembers they both have stitches so he settles for cursing instead, “Fuck off, what the fuck was that bullshit you pulled anyways? Who tries to help their assassin kill them?”

“You were determined. Bonds of fate didn’t matter to you whether you understood it or not doesn’t matter. I know I wasn’t the only one feeling like the idea of hurting each other was so horrible I was going to be sick. But there you were fighting for something you wanted, despite what fate or whatever said otherwise. I admired that. I grew up knowing I would die one day. I knew that was my fate and I never once fought it. But there you were shaking so badly it looked like you might fall over, struggling against that invisible force with all you could, fighting fate and I, what kind of soulmate would I be if I stopped you from fighting that hard for something?” He can feel his face heat up as Orion says all this like it was no big deal.

“You say that but I don’t understand. What kind of soulmate? What even is a soulmate?” He just doesn’t understand it. People throw around words but they don’t have meaning to him. Love? Fate? He doesn’t know those things.

“Its… it’s someone bound to you by fate or whatever else they say. Someone who always has your back no matter what. Someone you can trust to stand by you even if no one else will. It’s unyielding love and unending support.” Orion tells him, “My mother used to say it’s someone who you could trust with anything even if you didn’t trust yourself. If the world wanted to kill you its the one person who would fight to keep you alive.”

“Were your parents soulmates?” He feels the need to ask.

He can feel Orion shake his head, “Not at all. I don’t think my father ever met his soulmate and my mother’s soulmate died when she was younger, they never even had the chance to meet. At least that’s what she told my father.”

“But you think otherwise?” He gets to prompt Orion for once.

Orion hums in agreement, “She knew too much about soulmates to have never met her own. She died from an unknown illness that sprang up out of nowhere. When I was worried for her she told me not to be, she said, one day you’ll find someone you’ll want to protect and support even if it means greeting death face to face.”

They sit in silence for a moment before he speaks again, “She sounds like a wonderful woman.”

“The best I ever knew.” Orion agrees.

“How many do you actually know again?” He can’t help but tease.

Orion groans, “Oi! At least I’m not the one who tried to act like a hero and nearly die from a crossbow bolt straight to the area with all your vital organs.”

“You technically did almost die too.” He points out.

“And who’s fault is that?” Orion snarks back.

He frowns at that, “When I swore my loyalty to you it wasn’t just for show, I meant my words. My life was yours to use.”

“In what world were you ever under the impression your life was worth less than mine?” Orion asks him and he doesn’t understand.

“You’re going to be king, you needed to live.” He states the obvious.

“And you’re not expandable.” Orion tells him, enunciating every word with importance.

“Debatable.” He shoots back without even thinking about it.

Orion doesn’t say anything for a moment before asking quietly, “You don’t really believe that do you?”

He hesitates at that, “.... You’re the King. Me? I’m just a street rat trained to be an assassin. I have more blood on my hands than over almost all of the revolution combined.”

“And I sat by for over 23 years while my people died without doing anything.” Orion argues.

He rolls his eyes even though Orion can’t see him, “23 years? What did you think you could’ve done as an infant?”

“Fine, we’ll go from when I was first old enough to sit in on a royal council meeting so 16 years.” He has the feeling Orion rolled his eyes right back.

“You sat in on political meetings at the age of 7?” He’s genuinely curious about this. Seven seemed a little young but he was fighting for his life and money in the underground rings at seven.

“My father wanted me to be responsible, wanted to shape me into his to control, shame I was too much more my mother’s son than his.” Orion admits.

He hums, “Is that why you didn’t care I killed him?”

“He would have to die for the people of Lama to prosper. I knew that for a long time, before I had known for a long time that was going to wind up being the case. I had long since accepted it.” Orion states emotionlessly.

“That’s kinda cruel.” He points out.

“No, it’s cruel you think that I’d want to live without you now that I have you.” Orion says like that doesn’t make Erin’s chest feel tight.

“You lived without me before.” He tries to argue.

“But now our lives are officially bound together, we’ve bled the same wound.” Orion reaches down and grabs his wrist, the familiar burn is comforting now and not even painful at all as Orion continues talking, “If you died now, I think I’d wind up like my mother.”

“Sick and dying?” He asks.

“No I’m sure now the sickness was her soulmates. She had started to get better after one day out of the blue. I think her soulmate finally did die, but afterwards even though she was physically getting better she only seemed to grow more despondent, distant, and distraught. By the time the sickness came back full force a few weeks later, she didn’t have any strength or will left to fight it.” Orion explains.

That…, that was…. “So she just accepted her fate?”

He can feel Orion nod, “Yes. She told me once that if I ever met my soulmate, even if my father hated it, to make sure I didn’t let them get away or leave me because once that meeting takes place, I’d never feel truly whole unless I had my soulmate nearby.”

“That’s kinda fucked up.” He says without thinking even if it is true.

“She was dying not only from physical illness but also from a broken heart. Compared to the shit my father used to yell at me before it wasn’t much worse.” Orion dismisses.

He hums contemplating, “You know I’m even more glad I killed him them if that makes sense.”

“Who’s the romantic sap now?” Orion teases.

“Still you Mr. if you died now I’d wind up like my mother and die of a broken heart.” He teases right back.

Orion whines, “How cruel must my own soulmate be?”

“Don’t call me that.” he says so suddenly it even surprises himself. Orion is silent behind him as if he’s waiting for Erin to continue explaining when he’s ready. He swallows the lump in his throat as he continues to be completely vulnerable, “I don’t get it. I mean I get the concept you and so many other have talked about, but the feelings? The unparalleled vulnerability and extreme emotions? I don’t understand those at all. They confuse me and I hate it.”

“Okay Erin.” Orion says, holding him a little tighter, “Then we’ll just be Orion and Erin.”

“Will people accept that?” He asks even though he’s not worried for himself about what other people think, he’s worried about Orion.

Orion sighs, “Who the fuck cares what other people think about it, it’s not their business.”

“But you’re their King. What would it say to them if there was someone who bore no noble title or ancestry who didn’t kneel before you?” He keeps prodding even though he doesn't know why this is bothering him so much.

“You’ve sworn your loyalty once and that was more than enough. I don’t want someone who is my equal to act as if they’re beneath me.” Orion tells him.

He shakes his head, “People won’t like that. If Lama is going to have a king still they’ll expect proper actions and respect.”

“Well then maybe I’ll have to kneel before you to get them to understand we’re equals.” Orion jokes.

“So you’ll get on your knees for me huh?” He teases.

“Shut up or I’ll silence you myself.” Orion grumbles.

He turns around to face Orion whose face is a little red but that just eggs him on even more, “Oh my how naughty! What would you do huh? What kind of -”

Orion is suddenly even more in his space, and he doesn’t understand whats going on until his brain process the warmth on his lips and he realizes, _oh Orion’s kissing me_.

After what feels like forever but is probably only a few seconds Orion pulls away and he tries to convince himself he hates that smug look on Orion’s face as he notices how red Erin’s face has become, “See look works like a charm.”

He doesn’t manage to convince himself or make his face stop feeling like its burning, “You’ll regret that.”

“Do you?” Orion asks gently, reaching out for his hand and gripping it gently.

He doesn’t even have to think about it, “No, do it again.”

“That’s what I thought.” Orion says smugly and he really hates that smug grin.

“Shut up.” He whines.

“Or what?” Orion teases, squeezing his hand lightly.

He knows they should probably eat or go back to bed but for right now he’s pretty content trying to kiss that smugness away.

* * *

He's twenty three years old when he gets officially crowned as King. The affair is quiet and formal. Its everything he grew up hating. The banquet afterwards though is everything he hoped Lama might be one day when he thought about what would come after the revolution killed him. People are cheerful, smiling, and laughing not only in the castle but out in the streets as well.

He talks with his people and though it feels awkward with some of them being wary of him still and others being too formal, they’re free to say whatever they please without fear. It’s something he never thought he’d live to see. Granted he almost immediately regrets it when some lady comes wandering up to him proclaiming that she’s his soulmate.

He tries to nicely deny her and tell her no and even go as far as tell her that no he is not her soulmate why would she ever say that, there is no proof of that. She rolls up her sleeve and inked in the same blue as the sapphires on his crown are the first words he did say to her before she started to declare they were soulmates which were ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, no need for such formalities.”

People of course immediately are paying attention and he loathes this with his entire being because it’s clearly fake. Everyone knows your words are in the handwriting of your soulmate and the color of their eyes. His eyes are not blue nor is that chicken scratch his handwriting. But people push and talk and she demands to see his words because obviously they’ll match when Erin sneaks up behind him and says the words are on his shoulder.

At this point in time no one knows him and Erin are actual soulmates. The public story is Erin was swayed by his desire to build a better life for the people of Lama and then saved his life. The revolution then assigned Erin to be his guard due to the loyalty he had shown. Everyone knew of the crimson assassin who was King Orion’s personal guard. But only a few knew of the soulmate pair who almost died that day, Erin and Orion.

He isn’t surprised when Erin sneaks up on him. Erin was right when he said having a soulmate was having a blind spot. Erin was already so sneaky and silent add that to the bond rendering completely unafraid of the other’s presence we’ll sometimes he didn’t even notice Erin was around when he was working until there was a familiar red head and ruby eyes inches from his face.

He’s been backed into a corner and he can really only show her his words when everyone starts demanding to see them. When they start talking about it they only grow louder and even though he looks to Janus for help the man merely laughs at him. So he tugs down his collar and let’s the woman read the words out loud.

“Get on your knees,” she reads in the shrill voice that he has already grown to hate. The room fall completely silent at that. She sputters as she takes a step back with her new knowledge, “Who, who dare ask the King to kneel?”

He hears an oh too familiar laugh behind him that seems to echo in the silence above the hushed whispers of the people. He doesn’t need to see Erin’s face to imagine the look of pure glee as he cackles, “I dare!”

Gasps of shock fill the room. He feels like he’s suddenly in some sort of fairy tale in the moment. The woman stutters and looks between him and where Erin is no doubt standing not far behind him, “The King would never kneel for someone else! Especially not for the likes of you!”

Erin merely laughs louder at her words. A loud kind of glee he’s used to having fill the castle halls as Erin runs around causing mayhem and mischief with the gaggle of kids some of the revolution seems to have adopted after busting underground fighting rings. The kids are all little brats who think Erin hung the stars but they’re smart and can be respectful and honestly he can see where they’re coming from a bit with Erin, he’s started to think that way himself.

The whispers cut off when Erin’s laughter cuts out and he asks, no he orders, with no doubt a smug smile on his face, “Orion, get on your knees.”

He could deny Erin. He could roll his eyes and make Erin ask nicely. He could do a number of things. But clearly this woman is so scandalized by Erin’s order to him and he’s spent enough of his life in stuffy ballrooms and parties where formality could’ve choked him tighter than the tie around his neck. That is not the kind of Lama he hopes to create for as much as he does like formalities and order.

So instead he turns to face Erin who does indeed look smug and elated that Orion is deciding to play along with his antics for once. He turns to the chorus of gasps and murmurs of the crowd. He turns and faces his true soulmate, Erin, his Erin and kneels. As he kneels the room goes so silent you can hear those in the capital outside celebrating. With a loud sigh he looks up at Erin who is still smiling so wide that his eyes seem to sparkle in the light, who looks so wonderfully happy he can’t help his own smile as he shakes his head at Erin’s antics even though his voice is fond as he speaks, “Oh the things you do in the name of love.”

Needless to say if the celebration wasn’t loud previously, his ears are ringing almost immediately from the sheer volume around him as people start talking all at once. He would have never done something like that on his own. But for Erin? Well maybe sometimes he might give in just a little bit.

**Author's Note:**

> I stayed up way too late more than once writing this :punch: :pensive:  
> come yell at me on twitter @imaginenerds


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